


Of Dogs and Leaders

by Tassos



Series: A City Elf Walks Into a Blight - Ian Tabris Stories [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Developing Friendships, Gen, Still on the way to Lothering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5870608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassos/pseuds/Tassos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair and Morrigan don't like each other. A mabari hound adopts Ian. And someone has to decide where they're going next. Conversations on the way to Lothering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dogs and Leaders

Ian's never had a dog before. Rangy mutts clogging the alley, yes, but nothing like the mabari war hound that had followed them from Ostagar and then decided that Ian was the perfect person to tag along with. He'd only helped out the kennel master because he'd never seen a dog that big up close, and it didn't seem like that much trouble.

Except now he had a dog. 

Ian wasn't quite sure what to do with that.

What did they eat? His eyes darted down to the last portion of bread from Flemeth's supplies in his hand. He wasn't about to give it up, but surely a dog that big was going to be hungry soon.

"How much farther is it?" Alistair asked from where he sat on a rock on the other side the road. They'd stopped to rest and clean up after dispatching a band of darkspawn.

Morrigan had let her hair down to comb her fingers through it -- shaking out bits of frozen flesh -- and was twisting it back up. "If you ask me that one more time -"

"I haven't asked in hours" Alistair protested.

The war hound sat at Ian's feet staring at him, and his eyes were darting to the bread in his hands. When his long tongue licked his chops, Ian wondered just whether or not this imprinting would protect his hand from getting bitten off. The dog had been on its own for days.

"You've whined constantly since the sun rose and been nothing but insufferable," Morrigan snapped. "So I shan't tell you."

"I'm insufferable?" Alistair's voice went up in disbelief. "You are the worst sort of petty disgrace. It's a simple enough question."

"And if you had the common sense of a child you would remember what I told you this morning about the remaining distance instead of pestering me about it all day."

Ian raised his hand with the bread and watched the hound's eyes follow it. Big and round, they were like every other beggar's that he'd ever known. With a sigh he gave in and tossed the bread to him -- he caught it with a neat snap midair. Two bites and he swallowed it down. Then he looked at Ian for more.

"Sometime this afternoon is not exactly helpful," Alistair returned. "I just thought that you'd recognize where we were as we drew closer. Apparently I was wrong. You're not leading us in circles are you? It's be just our luck for our guide to get us lost."

"I'm not lost!" Morrigan's voice rose in indignation and Ian looked up in time to see the deathly glare she leveled at Alistair at the insult.

He sighed. "They've been like this all day," he told the dog, who actually looked over his shoulder toward the other two like he understood what Ian was saying.

"You see this road? You see the Tevinter Imperial Highway? If you weren't a moron you would know they both lead to Lothering!" 

"And how far away is that again?" Alistair shot back, getting a groan of frustration from Morrigan and a pair of raised hands in his direction, sparking with leashed power. Alistair's eyes widened abruptly, but he didn't have time to do more than scramble and fall off the rock onto his ass on the ground.

"Hey Morrigan, what do you think I should name him?" Ian called out before she could strike. "The dog, I mean. And don't say Alistair because that's just mean to the dog."

As a distraction it worked. Somewhat. Magic still crackled in Morrigan's hands but she didn't send the bolt of energy at Alistair, whose eyes darted toward Ian and back to her. He kept his mouth shut, which was the least Ian could hope for.

"Do you think he already has a name?"

With a huff, Morrigan finally dropped the spell she was holding and turned toward Ian, annoyed. "I don't care what you name the mangey beast as long as you keep it away from me." She stalked off down the road, signaling that their break was over.

Ian went over to help Alistair to his feet.

"Thanks. I thought I was going to be a toad for sure," he said, accepting Ian's hand to pull himself up. Oof, but the human was heavy, especially in splint mail. Ian didn't want to know how much weight that added.

"It's your own fault for goading her," Ian said.

"I know, but I just can't help myself. She's so . . . snide and superior, and she just gets under my skin." Alistair made two fists and a face that conveyed his utter frustration.

"That's because I am superior!" Morrigan called from up ahead.

"See?" Alistair pointed angrily as if that summed up everything. "Don't you just want to smack some humility into her? All I did was ask a simple question."

Ian glanced sideways at him. He thought about staying out of it for a moment -- there was antagonizing city guards in familiar territory and then there was antagonizing one of the two people he was stuck with for good or ill. But. His father didn't keep telling him to keep his head down all the time because he ever kept quiet. 

"You've been pestering her with your 'simple questions' all day," he said. He was pretty sure he could jump back quickly enough if Alistair decided to go at him. 

Ian was kind of surprised when he didn't and just gave Ian a dark look followed by a long sigh. "If she would just answer me without insults I wouldn't have to bother her so much," Alistair said.

"Annoying, isn't it," Ian said with little sympathy. This time the look Alistair shot him was hurt.

"Well, thanks. Glad to know it's Insult Alistair Day. And I heard what you said about the dog, too." He sped up, his longer legs taking him a few steps ahead, and now Ian was left trailing with the mabari, regretting his words because now he was the one doing Alistair wrong?

"Hey!" he said sharply to Alistair's back, more than a little irritated as he jogged to catch up. "Get off your high horse, Alistair. I just meant you've been baiting her right back with all your pointed questions. It's a wonder she hasn't struck out at you before now."

Alistair snorted, not appeased. "Of course you'd take her side."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've seen you two cozying up to each other. Laughing at me behind my back? That your new idea fun?"

Incensed, Ian slammed his hand into Alistair's chest and and shoved him hard, bringing him to a halt in the middle of the road. Alistair was big enough he could have plowed right through Ian, but from the shock on his face, he was too surprised to immediately do it, which let Ian get right up in Alistair's face.

"First, I'm not on anyone's stupid side. Second, just because I talk to Morrigan doesn't mean what we talk about is any of your business -- but no we don't laugh at you behind your back. Not everything is about you." Ian stepped away angrily. "We have a Blight to try to stop, and you and her picking on each other is not helping quell my fears that we're not all going to die trying."

Alistair had the decency to look away, the anger on his face turning sheepish, and Ian turned angrily back to the road. Up ahead, Morrigan was watching them with an unreadable expression on her face. Ian glared at her too because she was the other half of the problem. 

In the tense silence that followed, they continued on the path. The dumb dog was still by Ian's side, his fur brushing under his hand periodically. He still didn't know what to call him, and it was a better thought to occupy his mind as the afternoon wore on, while Morrigan led them toward Lothering and Alistair trailed behind.

An hour, maybe two passed -- it was hard to tell without the Chantry bells to mark the time -- and Ian had come up with half a dozen names that were either not right or ones that Shianni would disapprove of. He'd started asking the hound after a while.

"Beast? Too much?"

The dog snorted.

"Too much. How about something elvish Elendil? Arason?"

He would have sworn the dog rolled his eyes at him.

"Yeah, I don't know much actual elvish. Shianni would laugh."

"How about something simple, like Diego?" Alistair came up beside him. He didn't look at Ian, instead he seemed focused on the dog whose tongue lolled out of his mouth as Alistair pet him.

"You like that one?" Ian asked, and the mabari turned to him still panting happily. He barked once, and that seemed to settle that. "Diego it is." Ian met Alistair's eyes when the other warden finally glanced over. As peace offerings went, he'd take it. "Thanks."

"I'm a naming wizard," Alistair gave him slow grin. "Mothers brought all their first-born children to me."

"Oh?"

"They made me stop when I suggested the Arl's son be named Morris the Magnificent." Alistair made an exaggerated face of disappointment. "He's going to regret not having that name one day."

They walked in silence for a little while until Alistair finally said, "About earlier. I want to apologize. I shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you and said those things." 

Ian felt his eyebrows raise of their own accord. "All right?"

"You look surprised," said Alistair, frowning at him.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," Ian said.

"What? An apology? You made your point back there."

"Yeah, but -" Ian cut himself off.

"But what?" Alistair pressed.

Ian gave him a another sideways look. "Whenever I've yelled at a shem in the past about something they've done, they usually don't apologize."

"Oh." Alistair blinked, and his eyes darted to Ian's left ear for a moment before landing back on his face. "That's. . ."

When he trailed off awkwardly, Ian shrugged. "Yeah. Anyway. Thank you. Apology accepted." He waved his hand between them. "I didn't mean to sound like it was all your fault."

"Just most of it?" Alistair asked with enough humor in his voice that Ian knew it was over and done with for now. And no one had their teeth rattled, which was nice.

They walked in companionable silence then, though not for much longer. Up ahead, Morrigan had reached the next stairway onto the old Tevinter highway. Ian and Alistair followed her up.

"There, Lothering." She pointed to the smudge of houses and smoke rising in the distance near the highway. The whole countryside of rolling hills was laid out before them in the greens and browns of late summer. It was quite beautiful, actually.

"Finally," Alistair sighed, earning a tsk from Morrigan.

"I told you we would arrive this afternoon," she said.

"How long are we staying there?" Ian asked before any bickering broke out again. He looked at Alistair who stared back at him blankly.

"I don't know. How long do you think we should?"

"Well, where are were going next?" Ian asked.

"I don't know. Redcliffe, maybe? Eamon will know what to do." Alistair said it in such a way that Ian was certain his fellow warden didn't.

"Aren't you the Grey Wardens here?" Morrigan asked snidely. 

"In case you hadn't noticed, most of our order was wiped out," Alistair snapped back.

"Eamon's the arl?" Ian asked, trying to get them back on track. He was pretty sure Alistair had mentioned him before, and as Alistair explained again that he was and added that he was a good man to boot, Ian felt his stomach tensing up. The idea of going to a noble in his castle -- he still had nightmares of that. And of never getting out. 

"Dwarves, elves, and mages -- that who the treaties are with, aren't they?" he asked. "Maybe we should start with one of them."

"Not Redcliffe?"

"No offense to your arl, but we don't have a treaty with him," Ian said. "Who's to say he would help us? Loghain ran."

"Arl Eamon wouldn't," Alistair shook his head, but it wasn't a strong protest. He sighed. "If you think we should try one of them first, though, then maybe we should do that. The dwarves might be a good first choice. They're good fighters."

Dwarves. Ian didn't know much about dwarves, except, "Don't they live underground in the Frostback Mountains?" 

"Yes." Alistair frowned. "So?"

"So," Ian said slowly. "That's really far from here. Why don't we try one of the others that's closer first."

"Redcliffe's closer."

"One of the others that's not Redcliffe," Ian said, impatiently. "Morrigan's right, we're the wardens. We shouldn't be handing off our responsibility to a lord who might not help at all."

"Fine. Then you pick where we're going next," Alistair snapped. 

"'T'is the first sensible idea you've had yet," said Morrigan. "I'm certainly not going to follow you anywhere."

"Like I'd want you to," Alistair muttered darkly, but his expression softened when his gaze returned to Ian, expectantly.

"Well, Warden," Morrigan said. "What say you?"

"Me?" So surprised by the sudden turn of the conversation, Ian stared at both of them, not sure at all what to say. "But I can't decide, I'm -" He cut himself off because he'd been about to say, he was an elf. A nobody. Someone no one would listen to. A sentiment he'd hated and heard so many times in his life he couldn't possibly count them all. And he'd almost agreed with it out loud out without thinking.

"Since you care so much, you should decide," Alistair said, and he seemed relieved about it, of all things. "Maker knows I've never been any good at getting people to listen to me."

"For good reason," Morrigan said. "Ian at least thinks before blurting out nonsense."

"Thanks," Ian said dryly. A step up from her utter contempt of Alistair was something, he supposed. 

He licked his lips, turning it over in head as he looked between them. Alistair had lost the panicked look on his face. Morrigan returned his gaze knowingly, but she was surprisingly patient too. She knew of his doubts and seemed to be willing to follow his lead anyway.

Ian wasn't any less likely to lead them into the middle of a swamp or something equally terrible, but if there was one thing he didn't want, it was to follow someone else and know he could have done better. 

"Do you have the treaties?" he asked finally.

Alistair dug them out of his pack and handed them over. Ian took them, and without saying anything else, stepped between the other two and led them on down the road.

~*~


End file.
